Note 270 — KĀDAMBARĪ. (continued 2)

‘“Then, turning his eyes in the direction of the light, he beheld Kādambarī, and with her Madalekhā and Taralikā bearing a pearl necklace on a tray covered with white silk. (384) Thereupon Candrāpīḍa decided that it was this necklace that eclipsed271 moonlight, and was the cause of the brightness, and by rising while she was yet far off, and by all wonted courtesies, he greeted the approach of Madalekhā. For a moment she rested on that emerald seat, and then, rising, anointed him with sandal perfume, put on him two white robes, (385) crowned him with mālatī flowers, and then gave him the necklace, saying, ‘This thy gentleness, my Prince, so devoid of pride, must needs subjugate every heart. Thy kindness gives an opening even to one like me; by thy form thou art lord of life to all; by that tenderness shown even where there is no claim on thee, thou throwest on all a bond of love; the innate sweetness of thy bearing makes every man thy friend; these thy virtues, manifested with such natural gentleness, give confidence to all. Thy form must take the blame, for it inspires trust even at first sight; else words addressed to one of such dignity as thou would seem all unmeet. For to speak with thee would be an insult; our very respect would bring on us the charge of forwardness; our very praise would display our boldness; our subservience would manifest lightness, our love self-deception, our speech to thee audacity, our service impertinence, our gift an insult. Nay, more, thou hast conquered our hearts; what is left for us to give thee? Thou art lord of our life; what can we offer thee? Thou hast already bestowed the great favour of thy presence; what return could we make? Thou by thy sight hast made our life worth having; how can we reward thy coming? (386) Therefore Kādambarī with this excuse shows her affection rather than her dignity. Noble hearts admit no question of mine and thine. Away with the thought of dignity. Even if she accepted slavery to one like thee, she would do no unworthy act; even if she gave herself to thee, she would not be deceived; if she gave her life, she would not repent. The generosity of a noble heart is always bent on kindness, and does not willingly reject affection, and askers are less shamefaced than givers. But it is true that Kādambarī knows she has offended thee in this matter. Now, this necklace, called Çesha,272 because it was the only jewel left of all that rose at the churning of nectar, was for that reason greatly valued by the Lord of Ocean, and was given by him to Varuṇa on his return home. By the latter it was given to the Gandharva king, and by him to Kādambarī. And she, thinking thy form worthy of this ornament, in that not the earth, but the sky, is the home of the moon, hath sent it to thee. And though men like thee, who bear no ornament but a noble spirit, find it irksome to wear the gems honoured by meaner men, yet here Kādambarī’s affection is a reason for thee to do so. (387) Did not Vishṇu show his reverence by wearing on his breast the kaustubha gem, because it rose with Lakshmī; and yet he was not greater than thee, nor did the kaustubha gem in the least surpass the Çesha in worth; nor, indeed, does Lakshmī approach in the slightest degree to imitating Kādambarī’s beauty. And in truth, if her love is crushed by thee, she will grieve Mahāçvetā273 with a thousand reproaches, and will slay herself. Mahāçvetā therefore sends Taralikā with the necklace to thee, and bids me say thus: “Let not Kādambarī’s first impulse of love be crushed by thee, even in thought, most noble prince.”’ Thus having said, she fastened on his breast the necklace that rested like a bevy of stars on the slope of the golden mountain. Filled with amazement, Candrāpīḍa replied: ‘What means this, Madalekhā? Thou art clever, and knowest how to win acceptance for thy gifts. By leaving me no chance of a reply, thou hast shown skill in oratory. Nay, foolish maiden, what are we in respect of thee, or of acceptance and refusal; truly this talk is nought. Having received kindness from ladies so rich in courtesy, let me be employed in any matter, whether pleasing or displeasing to me. But truly there lives not the man whom the virtues of the most courteous lady Kādambarī do not discourteously274 enslave.’ (388) Thus saying, after some talk about Kādambarī, he dismissed Madalekhā, and ere she had long gone the daughter of Citraratha dismissed her attendants, rejected the insignia of wand, umbrella, and cowrie, and accompanied only by Tamālikā, again mounted to the roof of her palace to behold Candrāpīḍa, bright with pearls, silk raiment and sandal, go to the pleasure hill, like the moon to the mount of rising. There, with passionate glances imbued with every grace, she stole his heart. (390) And when it became too dark to see, she descended from the roof, and Candrāpīḍa, from the slope of the hill.